Hollywood Ghost Buster

He’s the man who has fought celebrity vampires and foiled the evil schemes of demonic movie executives, and now celebrated ‘Hollywood Ghostbuster’ Hank Hergenflast has agreed to speak exclusively to The Sleaze about some of his most infamous cases. “Obviously, I haven’t always been a ‘supernatural consultant to the stars’ and I haven’t always lived in Hollywood,” the forty five year old told us, as he supervised the digging up of a grave in an exclusive Beverly Hills graveyard. “I first became involved in this sort of stuff when I was working as a pool cleaner. I hadn’t long come out here from Nebraska, when I found myself cleaning Pamela Anderson’s pool. These were the days when she was still with Tommy Lee – you wouldn’t believe the kind of stuff we used to find floating in her pool. There was even worse blocking the filters.” Hergenflast’s pool cleaning activities that day were suddenly interrupted by the sound of screaming from within the house. “It sounded as if someone was being murdered! Naturally, I rushed inside, to be met by the sight of a Catholic priest staggering down the main staircase, covered in what I now know is ectoplasm,” he explains. “He was clearly in a state of shock, completely incoherent. I pushed past him and ran up the stairs and into the main bedroom, the source of the screaming, I was met by an unbelievable sight!”

Indeed, what Hergenflast saw there was to change his life forever. “Pamela Anderson was spread eagled, naked, on the bed, her writhing body held down by half a dozen nuns. She was making the most appalling noises, but they weren’t coming from her mouth, but instead emanating from her vagina!” the former pool cleaner recalls, as he sharpens a wooden stake. “As I stood there, gaping in horror at the bizarre scene before me, she arched her back, raising her ass and lady bits toward me – and the damn thing spoke to me! I swear a stream of obscenities issued from her vagina, threatening me in the crudest terms! Before I could react, it shot a stream of green bile at my face! Damn, I can tell you, that stuff burned like Hell!” It transpired that Anderson’s vagina had become possessed by an ancient Assyrian demon after she had unadvisedly used a dildo carved from the thigh bone of one of the entity’s high priests. “The bone had been disinterred from a tomb back in the nineteenth century by grave robbers, before being turned into a sex aid in the twenties by decadent thrill-seekers,” Hergenflast says. “It’s accursed nature was well known, but Anderson ignored all the warnings after she found it in a Venice Beach antiques shop and insisted on using it!”

Wiping the scalding ectoplasm from his eyes, Hergenflast surveyed the situation. “It was clearly completely out of control – the nuns didn’t have a clue what to do and Tommy Lee was a gibbering heap in the corner,” he recalls. “It turned out that the fool had tried to resolve the situation himself by dousing his manhood in holy water and attempting to mount Anderson, in the belief that this would expel the demon. Well, he’d barely penetrated her when he found himself forcibly expelled and hurled across the bedroom!” Hergenflast claims that his subsequent actions were entirely instinctive. “I’ve never been religious or anything, but it was like I was being guided by a higher force – I just stuck my fingers into that evil maw, groped around until I found her clitoris and began to massage it,” he explains as he jumps down onto the now exposed coffin. “I just knew instinctively that the demon could only be expelled by the power of orgasm – that’s where the priest and Tommy had gone wrong. They didn’t believe in the female orgasm, let alone the clitoris, dismissing them as myths!” A fierce battle ensued, with Hergenflast hanging on to Anderson’s vagina for dear life. “She was thrashing around, bucking like a bronco, all manner of obscenities issuing from her orifice – at one point a swarm of flies spewed out into my eyes – but I hung on with both hands! I could feel that orgasm coming despite the demon’s best efforts to resist,” he tell us. “Then suddenly she came – there was an almighty clap of thunder and a huge gust of evil smelling wind from her vagina. Just for a moment I saw the form of the demon, floating above the bed, before it turned to a ball of flame and vanished!”

Having released the Baywatch star from demonic possession, Hergenflast suddenly found himself in demand from top Hollywood figures as a ghost buster and exorcist. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of supernatural shit going down in this town,” he says. “A lot of these Hollywood types are so jaded they’ll dabble in sorts of stuff – séances, Ouija boards, voodoo, that sort of thing – for thrills. Believe me, it rarely ends well – that’s where I come in!” Hergenflast recounts how he was called in following sightings of actor River Phoenix wandering around West Hollywood in 1998, despite the fact that the former heart throb had died outside the Viper Room club in 1993. “There were all kinds of wild stories about him lumbering into people’s gardens, looking a bit decayed, and eating their pets,” Hergenflast claims, as he prises open the coffin lid. “A couple of girls even claimed to have been attacked by him in an alleyway near the Viper Room – they were lucky not to have been bitten!” Hergenflast obviously suspected Phoenix had been raised from the dead as a zombie – but by who and why? “Clearly, someone had been messing about with voodoo. Initially I suspected that it was studio chiefs behind it – they had form,” he explains. “It has long been rumoured that Richard Burton actually died in 1974 after a marathon drinking session with Lee Marvin whilst shooting The Klansman, but Paramount executives allegedly brought in a voodoo priest to revive him in order to finish the picture. They kept him going for another ten years on a diet of human flesh and scotch.”

However, Hergenflast soon established that studio executives weren’t behind the resurrection of River Phoenix. “After some investigations. I found that it was down to a couple of teenaged female fans – they’d used voodoo to bring their idol back from the grave,” he reveals, finally opening the coffin to reveal the apparently perfectly preserved visage of Liberace. “They thought they could keep him in the cellar – the trouble started when one of them tried to get romantic with the living corpse. Not only did some vital bits of his anatomy fall off, but he escaped from the cellar and went on the rampage!” The ghost buster finally managed to put paid to the zombie celebrity by luring him back to the scene of his death with a pile of cocaine and a pig carcass. “I let him have it right between the eyes as he tried to snort the coke,” he recalls, raising the newly sharpened wooden stake above his head. “He went down again on the same stretch of pavement outside the Viper Room where he’d breathed his last!”

Most recently, Hergenflast has found himself exorcising Bruce Willis’ arse. “It’s true – his butt hole was haunted,” he chuckles. “It was really embarrassing him – every time he made a public appearance these ghostly apparitions would explode from his butt and fly around terrorising spectators. They were always accompanied by this unholy stench. It was one of the weirdest hauntings I’ve ever investigated – turned out they were the ghosts of all the lousy movies he’s made of late that have stunk out the box office. I eventually had to beat them out with a crucifix. Bruce is still wearing a Jesus butt-plug blessed by the Pope as a precaution against them coming back.” Finally, Hergenflast brings the stake down, impaling Liberace through the heart. As the late pianist’s eyes flicked open and blood spurted, the ghost buster shouted: “Damn you Liberace, you undead bastard, that’s the last time you go cruising for fresh blood in men’s johns!”

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About The Author

Publisher, Executive Editor and Chief Writer of The Sleaze, the Doc is in the forefront of the campaign to preserve historic 1970s moustaches, and is currently the owner of a fine 1970 Alain Delon, which he wears with pride every Thursday. Before founding The Sleaze, the Doc had the singular honour of being dismissed from the Ministry of Defence's Defence Intelligence Staff following his involvement with the original 'dodgy dossier', which sparked the civil war in the former Yugoslavia. Nevertheless, he stands by his controversial assessment that there is satellite imagery clearly showing Serbian leader Slobodan Milosevic enjoying a three-in-a-bed romp with Princess Margaret and Richard Branson. Following his dismissal, the Doc crossed the Atlantic to enter the film industry, where he quickly became Tawny Kitaen's pubic hair stylist. The proud possessor of the world's largest collection of pornography discovered in hedgerows, the Doc is considered one of Britain's leading experts on smut, and acted as an advisor to the BBC 4 series A Pornographic History of Britain. Now in his early middle years, Doc Sleaze lives quietly in Southern England where he is sometimes allowed to teach Government and Politics to local A-level students. He can be reached through the site's main e-mail address - just don't expect a reply.